


Knits and Purls

by LassieLowrider



Series: COC2019 [9]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Knitting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21662842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LassieLowrider/pseuds/LassieLowrider
Summary: Baz is knitting, and Simon can't really focus on anything else.or: Simon does not have a brain-to-mouth filter.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: COC2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553869
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Knits and Purls

**Author's Note:**

> I own zip.
> 
> Fill for COC2019 day 9 prompt: Pattern.

**Simon**

It’s hypnotic, watching Baz knit, even if I’m doing it as furtively as possible. The times he’s knitting is the times we can manage to actually both be in the room at the same time without being at each other’s throats constantly. 

It’s also the times I’m most hardpressed to remember he’s evil, because how evil can someone who  _ knits  _ for fun actually be?

He does something with the needles at regular intervals, something to make them glint in the low light he manages to knit by, just often enough I can’t shut it out. He puts the project down, and I can finally focus on my reading again - not that I’ll get much reading done, but I can try.

“Hold out your hands,” Baz suddenly says, startling me out of my thoughts. I do it, too, mostly on autopilot - I’m even more surprised when he makes a noise of displeasure before grabbing my arms and moving them closer together in front of me. The jolt that runs through me when he touches me must be my imagination because I don’t want to consider what else it may be.

He turns his back to me, but I keep holding my arms out, mostly in shock. If the shock comes from Baz voluntarily speaking to me  _ without  _ insulting me, or due to Baz  _ touching me _ , I don’t want to reflect on.

“Hold this,” he says brusquely before looping what seems like half a sheep’s worth of yarn around my outstretched arms. 

I can only sit there, and watch, as he starts balling it up. I’d thought that the knitting was hypnotic, but that’s nothing compared to this. His hands, strong and sure, twisting the yarn around itself and then starts wrapping the yarn around the twist. Steadily the ball grows, just as steadily he keeps turning and wrapping it. 

It lulls me into a trance, watching him ball the yarn. I’m a bit too focused on watching the hands but I decide not to reflect on that. Maybe that’s why I’m surprised when I start talking - because I’m certain I’m not involved in the decision.

“Can you teach me?” I say, suddenly, and Baz seems as startled at the words as I am.

“Teach you what?” he answers, though, and it’s the not immediate refusal I expected.

“Knitting - can you?” 

“Hm,” he hums, as he finishes balling the yarn. Slowly I lower my arms, not entirely certain what’s going on here but still terrified of breaking what seems a fragile truce. “Wait here.”

He goes over to his side and rummages through a basket, comes up with a ball of grey yarn and two other needles, larger than the ones he’d been using. He comes back and sits down, next to me now instead of opposite. 

“These are your needles, and this is your yarn,” he says, holding them up respectively. Instead of sassing back, which is my gut reaction, I only nod. “What we do is make a noose of the yarn, with a long tail of yarn, for casting on - that’s making the stitches, the loops, on the needles - and put it on the needle.” He makes a noose, does it a couple of times to show me, and then continues.

“You put the tail over your thumb, and the yarn from the ball between your pointer and third finger, and then take the needle like so.” He does something complicated-looking with the needle and where there was one loop on the needle there’s now two. He does it again and there’s three. “You try it, Snow.”

I try it. I manage to make a noose without too much issue, but then I got a bit stuck. Literally. 

“How on Earth, Snow, did you manage that?” Baz says, incredulity colouring his tone vividly. What looked like half the ball of yarn he’d given me have managed to wrap around my hand, and I have also lost my needle. I shrug sheepishly. “Okay, let’s start over.”

He grabs the yarn from me and balls it up again.

“Now, we make the noose,” he says and then - grabs my hands? Wraps his arm around me so he can grab my hands and then he guides my hands through the motions, all while narrating. “Tail over the thumb, yarn over between pointer and third finger, then you take the needle through the loop over your thumb from behind, and then through the yarn over your index finger.” 

I nod along, all while knowing perfectly well I haven’t heard a single word, because all I can focus on is his cool hands on mine, and the burning touch of his arm wrapped around my back.

Oh, I am in trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an avid knitter (I say, not having knitted for a month) and an avid reader (I say, not having read _Wayward Son_ yet).


End file.
